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Tell me, when Honeychile Ryder walked out of the sea in the film of Dr No,
naked except for — to employ an appropriately Fleming-esque locution — a
white bikini, a webbing belt and a knife, was your first reaction
disappointment? A feeling, perhaps, that she might have used a touch more
Blanco on her belt?

Perhaps, then, you were also disappointed that The Man With No Name
encountered such poor opposition when he took on the Baxters’ men and filled
four coffins. And perhaps you were disappointed when Gene Kelly failed to go
home for a nice hot drink after saying